


Stuck in a Lift

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 10:44:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft and Greg find themselves stuck in a lift





	Stuck in a Lift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hoomhum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoomhum/gifts).

Mycroft packed up the last few things from his desk. Lestrade stood near the door, waiting for him. The building was quiet; everyone else had gone home for the holiday weekend. Lestrade had come by to discuss a few things and Mycroft had offered to walk him out.

Lestrade was looking a bit nervous and Mycroft was afraid to speculate why.

Almost to the lift, Lestrade rubbed the back of his neck, the way he did before he was about to say something he was anxious about. “Do you have dinner plans?”

Ah, there it was. “Not as such, no.”

“Wanna join me, then?” asked Lestrade hopefully, pushing the button.

The ball was in Mycroft’s court. He could say no. Lestrade would be disappointed, but wouldn’t press the point. For once in his life, though, Mycroft wanted to say yes. He gave Lestrade a small smile as he stepped into the lift. “I would like that.”

Lestrade looked relieved. He grinned at Mycroft and pressed the button for the ground floor. “Call me Greg, though, would you?”

Mycroft took a breath and returned the smile. “Greg. I will try.” He felt a frisson of anticipation go down his spine. This evening might go very well indeed.

Suddenly, as if the universe couldn’t allow Mycroft to be free of worry for five minutes, the lights flickered and the lift shuddered to a halt. Greg and Mycroft shared a look.

Without speaking to one another, Greg moved to the elevator buttons and Mycroft pulled out his mobile. No signal. Greg hit a few buttons, but nothing happened.

With a sigh, Greg pushed the emergency button.

“It appears dinner will be delayed,” said Mycroft, shivering and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah. You all right?” Greg looked at him with concern.

“Not a fan of long periods in confined spaces,” admitted Mycroft. “Travelling a few floors is fine. But we’re not moving.”

Greg nodded and took off his jacket, putting it on the floor. “Here, let’s sit down.”

Mycroft wanted to argue, but he found himself following Greg’s lead and taking a seat.

Greg smiled and took his hand. “I’m sure they’ll be fast about it, government building and all.”

“But it is a holiday weekend,” said Mycroft.

“True.” Greg squeezed his hand. “All I had planned was binge-watching some telly.”

“You should come to mine,” said Mycroft. “I have a projection room.”

Greg grinned. “A sleepover?”

Mycroft couldn’t help but smile in return. “Perhaps. But let’s start with dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan. Maybe we can get takeaway, depending on how long this takes.”

Mycroft anxiously glanced at the closed doors.

“Hey, just look at me,” said Greg, cupping his cheek. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Mycroft felt his heart swell. It had been a very long time indeed since anyone had offered to take care of him. Greg was still smiling gently, his touch warm, his eyes honest.

Quite without thinking about it, Mycroft leaned close to him, eyes closing.

Greg met him halfway, sighing into the kiss.

The kiss was tender, exploratory, cautious and hungry all at the same time. Mycroft’s hands landed on Greg’s shoulders; Greg cupped Mycroft’s face.

A noise somewhere above them had them startling apart.

“See,” said Greg. “We’ll be out of here in no time.

Mycroft reached over for his hand. Greg got to his feet and helped Mycroft up, not letting go as he bent to pick up his jacket.

“I find myself almost wishing for more time,” admitted Mycroft, eyes going to Greg’s lips.

“Holiday weekend,” Greg reminded him. He leaned in and kissed Mycroft’s cheek as the lift started to move.

“I vote we get takeaway and spend the weekend at mine,” said Mycroft.

“It’s unanimous,” smiled Greg.

The lift doors opened and a mechanic gave them an apology as they stepped out. Mycroft waved him off and wished him a good evening, too preoccupied by the promise holding his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to paia_loves_pie for the quick readover. You can find me on twitter at merindab


End file.
